Page 88 of Freestyle (Academy of Stardom 1)

“Impressive,” I comment. It would take a lot of skill and strength to do what they’re doing and not faceplant onto the floor or collide. “It looks tricky.”

“We could totally ace this move. I’ll show it to Zayn later…” he replies, flicking the screen upwards and placing his phone face down on the table. He sits stiffly beside me as silence descends. I feel more awkward than ever around him.

“We’re still doing it… the competition, I mean?” I ask him, surprised, honestly.

“Of course we are. Why do you think we wouldn’t be?”

“You’ve been busy…” I point out.

“And you’ve been avoiding us,” he retorts. “I guess that makes us equal.”

I don’t respond because I can feel the beginnings of an argument forming, and I really, really don’t want to fight. So we sit in silence until I can’t deal with it anymore.

“Are we okay?” I ask eventually, worrying my lip like I tend to do when I’m anxious.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” he answers way too quickly for my liking.

“Because you’re acting weird, because you’re looking at everything in this room bar me.”And because I feel like I’m losing you.

At that he shifts in his seat so that our knees bang together, and the heat of his gaze is fixed firmly on my face. “Is that better?”

“Not really,” I mutter, wishing I hadn’t said anything.

“You didn’t seem to mind me staring last night.”

Puffing out my cheeks, I decide to grow some lady balls. “You’re right, I didn’t. But that was different. You looked at me like you wanted me. Now you’re looking at me like you don’t know who I am. I’m still me. I’m still, Pen and I love Zayn.”

“So is it him? Is he the one you’re going to choose?”

“You’re still adamant about that, after everything that’s happened?” My voice is sharp. It angers me that he’s still so determined to break us apart. I’m not any nearer to knowing what I want. If anything, being intimate with York, Dax and Zayn has made this harder.

He puffs out his cheeks, then blows out a steady breath. “I never change my mind about anything once it’s made up.”

“What, never?” I ask, placing my hand over his, my heart battering like a piston against my rib cage.

“Never.”

“Have you ever considered the possibility that I won’t have to choose, that they might choose me?” I whisper, feeling both hope at the possibility and agony at the thought.

Xeno meets my gaze and I see the truth in them. He has thought about it. He’s thought about it a lot. Xeno opens his mouth to respond, but slams it shut when his phone starts ringing. Snatching it up, he strides from the kitchen. By the time he returns, the moment of honesty is gone and neither of us bring up the subject again.

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